seriously I pronounce it--Eugenia
approached as closely to perfection as the Creator has permitted to his
creature! Such as she was, to say I loved her were imperfect phrase! my
passion was enthusiasm--was idolatry! Our marriage-bed was early blessed
with increase--and as my lip greeted with a father's kiss the infant, my
heart bounded with a new transport towards its mother.--My felicity
seemed perfect! Now, Florian, mark! My country a second time called me
to her battles; I left my kinsman, Longueville, to guard the dear-ones
of my soul at home, then sped to join our army in a distant province.
I was wounded and made prisoner by the enemy. When I recovered health
and liberty, I found a rumour of my death had in the interval prevailed
through France. I trembled lest Eugenia should receive the tale, and
flew in person to prevent her terrors. It was evening when I reached the
hills of Languedoc, and looked impatiently towards my cheerful home
beneath. I looked--the last sunbeam glared redly upon smoking ruins! Oh!
oh! the blood now chills and curdles round my heart--the wolves of war
had rushed by night upon my slumbering fold--fire and sword had
desolated all. I called upon my wife and my infant. I trembled on their
ashes while I called! (_he sinks back exhausted in his chair._)

_Flo._ Tremendous hour! so dire a shock might well have paralized a
Roman firmness.

_De Val._ (_resuming faintly._) Florian, there is a grief that never
found its image yet in words. I prayed for death--nay, madness! but
heaven, for its own best purposes, denied me either boon. I was ordained
still to live, and still be conscious of my misery. For many weeks I
wandered through the country, silent, sullen, stupified! My people
watched, but dared not comfort me. Abjuring social life, I plunged into
the deepest solitudes, to shun all commerce with my kind. 'Twas at the
close of a sultry day, the last of August, that I entered a forest at
the foot of the Cevennes, and worn with long fatigue and misery,
stretched myself upon the moss for momentary rest. On the sudden,
a faint and feeble moan pierced my ear; instinctively I moved the
branches at my side, and at the foot of a rude stone-cross beheld a
desolate infant, unnaturally left to perish in the wilderness! It was
famishing--expiring. I raised it to my breast, and its little arms
twined feebly round my neck Florian! thou wert heaven's gracious
instrument to reclaim a truant to his duties! Wel